@ashleycurtiss87: Life lesson 101... you CANNOT put water on an oil fire 🔥 😂 #vivint

Ashley Curtiss

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Wednesday 11 November 2026 03:05:11 GMT

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I miss you so fucking much, Brady. 💔💙 Sometimes I look at your picture and my brain still refuses to understand how this is my life. How can your beautiful face be right there in front of me, while you are somehow not here? 2013–2026. I hate those numbers. They make your whole life look so small when you were anything but. You were loud laughter and baseball fields. Fishing poles and muddy shoes. Wrestling mats and 4-wheelers. Quiet confidence. You were “Let’s gooooo!” screamed at the top of your lungs. You were a brother, a twin, a friend. You were my son. You are my son. And I don't know how I'm supposed to exist in a world where you don't get to keep growing up. I don't want to learn how to live without you. I don't want to get used to your empty place. I don't want birthdays, baseball seasons, school years and family pictures to keep coming without you in them. I want to mother you. I want to worry about you. Feed you. Nag you. Hug you. Drive you somewhere you probably could've walked. Watch you play ball. Hear you arguing with your brothers. See what you look like at 14, 16, 18, 25. I want the ordinary things we were supposed to have. Eight months have passed, and somehow the world just keeps moving. The sun keeps coming up. Seasons change. Your brothers keep growing. Life keeps asking things of me. And some days I want to scream, HOW? How does the world keep going when one of the most important people in mine is missing? People see me living. They see me smiling, laughing, taking care of your brothers, going places and making memories. But underneath all of it, there is always this quiet sentence: Brady should be here. Every single beautiful thing still has a place where you belong. I'm trying, baby. God knows I'm trying. I'm trying to live this life without feeling like living it means leaving you behind. I'm trying to understand how joy and devastation can somehow live inside the same heart. I'm trying to be present for your brothers while part of me is forever reaching backward for you. And I pray so desperately that Jesus is holding you while I can't. Until I can hold you again, I'll keep saying your name. I'll keep telling your stories. I'll keep finding you in baseball fields and sunsets and fishing poles and every ridiculous “LET'S GOOOOOO!” I'll keep loving you out loud. Because death may have changed everything about how I get to love you... but it did not make me stop being your mom. I am still your mama. You are still my boy. And I will love you for every single day I have left. I just really, really wish you were here for them. 💔💙 #Son #Mother #ChildLoss #GriefJourney #LoveLikeBrady

I miss you so fucking much, Brady. 💔💙 Sometimes I look at your picture and my brain still refuses to understand how this is my life. How can your beautiful face be right there in front of me, while you are somehow not here? 2013–2026. I hate those numbers. They make your whole life look so small when you were anything but. You were loud laughter and baseball fields. Fishing poles and muddy shoes. Wrestling mats and 4-wheelers. Quiet confidence. You were “Let’s gooooo!” screamed at the top of your lungs. You were a brother, a twin, a friend. You were my son. You are my son. And I don't know how I'm supposed to exist in a world where you don't get to keep growing up. I don't want to learn how to live without you. I don't want to get used to your empty place. I don't want birthdays, baseball seasons, school years and family pictures to keep coming without you in them. I want to mother you. I want to worry about you. Feed you. Nag you. Hug you. Drive you somewhere you probably could've walked. Watch you play ball. Hear you arguing with your brothers. See what you look like at 14, 16, 18, 25. I want the ordinary things we were supposed to have. Eight months have passed, and somehow the world just keeps moving. The sun keeps coming up. Seasons change. Your brothers keep growing. Life keeps asking things of me. And some days I want to scream, HOW? How does the world keep going when one of the most important people in mine is missing? People see me living. They see me smiling, laughing, taking care of your brothers, going places and making memories. But underneath all of it, there is always this quiet sentence: Brady should be here. Every single beautiful thing still has a place where you belong. I'm trying, baby. God knows I'm trying. I'm trying to live this life without feeling like living it means leaving you behind. I'm trying to understand how joy and devastation can somehow live inside the same heart. I'm trying to be present for your brothers while part of me is forever reaching backward for you. And I pray so desperately that Jesus is holding you while I can't. Until I can hold you again, I'll keep saying your name. I'll keep telling your stories. I'll keep finding you in baseball fields and sunsets and fishing poles and every ridiculous “LET'S GOOOOOO!” I'll keep loving you out loud. Because death may have changed everything about how I get to love you... but it did not make me stop being your mom. I am still your mama. You are still my boy. And I will love you for every single day I have left. I just really, really wish you were here for them. 💔💙 #Son #Mother #ChildLoss #GriefJourney #LoveLikeBrady

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